


make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely

by bizarrebird



Series: Diner AU [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Background Relationships, Gen, RvB Fluff Week, although this one doesn't have any diner in it, shitty diner au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11301918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizarrebird/pseuds/bizarrebird
Summary: Life isn't perfect and neither are they, but from day one, York's always known there's no one else who he'd rather have backing him up when things get rough.





	make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Diner AU: Tex and York being asshole friends who love each other from secretlystephaniebrown

It starts on a playground. 

“Get off him, you big dummy!” 

The girl is half the size of the boy pinning York to the bark chips, but that doesn’t stop her from sending him running off crying, hand pressed to his bleeding nose. She’s got a grin with a missing front tooth and a hand covered in dirt and bandaids that she sticks in his face to pull him up. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, that was so cool, you were like pow! And he was like ‘waaaah mommy help me’ and it was awesome!” York bounces on the spot, not even caring about his stupid lisp for once. 

The girl giggles and beams at him. She brushes imaginary dust off her shoulders. “Yeah, I’m kind of a big deal. Why was that guy picking on you anyway?”

Shrugging, York shoves his hands into his pockets. “He said I stole something out of his cubby.”

“Did you?” This girl’s a smart one. 

“Maybe. But he didn’t see me, so he can’t prove it and he got all mad.” York should probably feel a little guilty, his mom always says stealing is wrong. But he would’ve put it back if the jerk hadn’t made such a fuss about it. 

So it’s his now. 

“What’d you take?” The girl doesn’t sound like she’s accusing him of anything, she just seems curious, her big gray eyes blinking up at him. 

York hesitates for a moment before grinning as he pulls a small model spaceship from his pocket. “Pretty cool, right? He was waving it all around before, bragging about how no one else could see it unless they gave him the best stuff outta their lunch.”

“What a cockbite.”

Eyes widening a little, York can’t quite stop himself gasping. The girl cocks an eyebrow at him, looking like she’s trying not to laugh. “What?”

“Nothing, just… your parents let you swear?” He glances around, almost as if expecting someone to be there listening, waiting to get her in trouble. But there’s no teachers, no parents. 

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Where d’you think I learned that? My mom says it all’a time. ‘S no big deal.”

“Cool.” York can’t stop the little giggle that sneaks out. He holds the ship out to her. “You wanna play with it? I don’t really like space stuff, just thought it was too cool for him to have, y’know?”

“I get’cha.” She eyes the ship for a moment before snatching it, making sound effects as she waves it around. “I’ll give it to my brother, he likes this nerd stuff.”

She shoves it into her pocket and then gives him a good, long look before offering her hand. “I’m Allison.”

Her hand is a little grubby and gross, but York takes it anyway, grinning wide and crooked. “I’m York.”

Allison tips her head to one side, making a face. “That’s a weird name.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s my last name.” He shrugs, looking at the ground as his hand falls back to his side. “It’s kinda… hard to say my first name with my stupid lisp.”

He knows the question that’s coming, the same one as always, or the gentle assurance that Sylvester isn’t that bad a name. But they don’t come. Instead, Allison just leans her head the other way, brow furrowed in thought. 

“It’s not that bad, but… you do talk kinda funny. You can call me Ally if you want, that doesn’t have an ‘s’.”

York blinks, eyebrows rising a little. This is weird. People don’t make things easier for him. Try harder, they say. You can do better if you just work harder. “Really?”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “I don’t really like ‘Allison’ anyway.”

“Okay, cool.” York tries to bite back the big crooked grin that’s sneaking across his face. He turns away to hide it, eyes drifting over the deserted playground. “You wanna go on the swings? I could push--”

“Hell yeah! Bet I can swing way higher than you!” And she’s already halfway there, bark chips flying through the air behind her. 

* * *

It’s not until high school and Allison is Tex that they finally have a class together. As much as York likes giving her and Wash shit for being little baby freshmen, it’s so fucking nice having Tex behind him in Astronomy. Even if she likes throwing crumpled bits of paper at the back of his head when he tries to take a well deserved nap.

“So, your place today or are we crashing at North’s again?” he asks as they head for the lockers, Tex on his left, Wash on his right. They’re both a head shorter than him, so it’s easy for him to drape an arm around both of their shoulders. 

“I’d rather go to North’s.” There’s a little blush dusting across Wash’s freckles. 

Tex snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I bet you would.”

“Aw, Washy wants to see his booooyfriend.” York coos at him, shifting his grip to a loose headlock, pulling Wash closer. 

Wash splutters and goes bright red, squirming until he shoves his way free. “Shut up! He’s not! I just… I just don’t wanna go home today.”

And the air changes around them in an instant as Wash’s gaze drops to his shoes and Tex goes tense at York’s side. He instinctively pulls her a little closer, and she goes, leaning against his shoulder a little. 

“Go grab your stuff.” Tex’s voice is calm and even, because of course it is. She does angry and annoyed in public, but not… whatever this is. York doesn’t quite have a word for it. 

Wash nods and moves down the hall to his locker. Gnawing at the inside of his cheek, York stands on tiptoe, trying to watch, but that kid moves fast when he wants to and is lost quickly in a sea of students. “He doing okay?”

“Hell if I know.” He feels Tex shrug against him. “He doesn’t talk to me about that stuff. C’mon, you’ve gotta open my locker again, I put the wrong lock on this morning.”

“Why do you even keep that old one?” He knows why. It takes him less than a minute to get the fiddly old thing off Tex’s locker, but that means they get to walk halfway across the school together, talking about whatever for an extra five minutes. 

She shrugs and flashes him a little grin. “Cause if I get a better new one, you might not be able to get it open if I forget the combo.”

He scoffs and presses a hand to his chest, doing his best to look deeply offended. “Excuse you, I’m the lock whisperer. Have you ever seen me find a lock I can’t get past?”

“Yes. Several times.”

“Okay, but besides those--”

She just laughs and tugs him along. By the time they’re out of the school to meet up with Wash and the Dakotas in the parking lot, the uncomfortable moment from before has all but left York’s mind. 

In the back of his head, he knows things aren’t perfect, that there’s some pretty good reasons why Tex and Wash want to spend as little time at home as possible, why they’ve both tried to leave behind the names their parents picked. But it’s not something he can fix. There’s too much shit for any of them to wade through alone. 

But he can hold both of them close when they pass out on the couch in South’s room and pretend that maybe it’s all going to turn out okay. 

* * *

York stares at himself in the mirror, carefully combing his hair into perfect shape. He’s got to get this right. He needs to look good for this. Today’s the day.

There’s a pounding on the bathroom door. “Would you hurry up in there?”

“You can’t rush perfection, Ally,” he calls, smirking a little to himself, knowing he’s going to pay for that later. 

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you, asshole. Get the fuck out here, teachers keep giving me dirty looks.”

“Okay, okay.” With a final glance at himself in the mirror, York tucks away the comb and steps out into the hallway. Tex is leaning against the wall, but she doesn’t seem to notice him, her eyes fixed down the hallway at the entrance of the school. She’s been doing that all day. 

He gives her a little nudge. “What’s up? You waiting for something?”

She shakes her head a little then lets out a huff. “It’s nothing, just… Wash missed first period.”

York’s brow furrows and there’s a slight curl of anxiety around the already potent bundle of nervous energy that’s keeping him bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Did he come in with South?”

“No, he was going to drive himself again.” Her eyes are still on the door. 

“Maybe he just… got here late and got stuck dealing with shit in the office. They held me for half the day once.”

She cocks an eyebrow at him. “That’s because you forged your mom’s signature on your late slip right in front of the principal.”

But a little of the concern has melted into vaguely amused annoyance and she’s not having a staring contest with the front entrance anymore, so he’s calling that a win. Clapping her on the shoulder, he steers her down the hall toward the cafeteria. “Wash’ll be fine. Now, let’s get back to worrying about me.”

Tex huffs, but lets him pull her along. They stop in the doorway of the cafeteria and York stands on his tiptoes, trying to peer over the crowds of students milling about, looking for that telltale bright red hair. 

“Over there.” Tex points toward the back corner. York is never going to forgive the genetics that made Tex and Wash both shoot up over the summer, each of them getting almost five inches on him. It’s just not fair. “She’s in the back--it looks like she’s talking to that Connie girl. Ooh, looks like they’re getting cozy, you better hurry,” she says, giving him a teasing nudge. 

“Very funny.” He nudges back, smile in place, though there’s a horrible lurching in his gut as he looks over where she’s pointing. Taking a breath, he shakes out his hands at his sides. “Alright, remind me of the plan.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tex sighs and pinches the bridge of her crooked nose. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she starts propelling him through the cafeteria, talking in his ear all the while. “You’re going to go up and introduce yourself--like a normal person, no stupid lines, no witty jokes, just say hi and ask her out.”

“Right. I can do that. I can talk with my mouth and make words go. I’ve got this. How’s my hair? Tex, tell me I’m pretty.”

“Out of ten, you’re at least a solid seven, maybe an eight in good lighting.” She comes to a stop several feet away and gives him a little shove and a slap on the ass. “Go get her, moron.”

York nods to himself, stumbling a little before regaining his usual stride. Dragging a hand through his hair, aiming to give it that perfect ‘sexy messy bedhead’ look, he glances back at Tex, who’s taken a seat at an empty table. She gives him two big thumbs up and a wide grin. Right, he can do this. He’s got this. 

Or he would, if the school hadn’t cheaped out so much on their wet floor signs. York’s a foot away when he slips and starts sliding, just as beautiful, mystery girl turns toward him. Mystery girl has some really, really nice arms that manage to catch him and stop him landing flat on his face. She laughs as she steadies him. 

“Are you alright?” 

She has the greenest eyes in the world and her eyebrows don’t match her hair and York’s hands are suddenly the sweatiest anything in the universe has ever been, he could fill a swimming pool with the ridiculous amount of damp rushing out of his skin. Jesus Christ, why did he think he could do this? 

“I’m super,” he says. Except, it doesn’t sound like ‘super’. He hasn’t lisped in years,  _ years _ . But there it is, rising from the depths past countless hours of speech therapy and careful practice. If the ground could just open up and swallow him whole right now that would be awesome. 

Wincing a little, he tries to recover. He can do this. Half the school is totally into him. Or he’s pretty sure they are anyway. It’s not like he’s mister jock popular or anything, but he definitely has that outcast bad boy thing going for him. He’s got this. 

“I mean, I’m fine. Sorry about that, didn’t mean to fall for you--on you.” Nailed it. Nothing like a smooth, accidental on purpose slip of the tongue to crank up the charm. 

But mystery girl looks more amused than impressed, one of her eyebrows rising, her lips curling like she’s trying not to laugh. Fine, amused is fine, he can work with that. “I’m sure. Maybe you should sit down before you get any further ahead of yourself.”

Oh no. She’s clever, and there’s a little smirk on her face and a sparkle in her eyes and he’s so doomed. 

Her name is Carolina. They end up sitting and talking together for a while, it could be a few minutes, could be hours for all that York knows. She’s new this year since she just moved back in with her dad after a few years of boarding school. Her brother’s already been here a year, and York’s pretty sure he sounds like the loser who’s been trailing after Tex for months. They’re talking about classes and comparing schedules when York glances over toward Tex’s table. 

And he goes still, stopping mid word. 

Tex is sitting there, talking to the principal. She looks like she’s about to be sick, her hands gripping the strap of her backpack so tight he can see her knuckles turning white even from half a room away. It looks like she’s shaking.

“Uh, hey, Carolina, I’m really sorry. I’ve gotta just… go check on my friend. I’ll be right back,” he says, offering her a quick grin before getting up and moving to Tex’s side. 

“Hey, is everything okay over here?” His smile is wide and easy, even when the principal shoots him a look, implying he should probably make himself scarce. 

“There’s been an accident, but it’s none of your concern--”

“It’s Wash.” Tex’s voice is clipped and strangely quiet. She rises and grabs at his arm as if to steady herself. “I need a ride. Right now.”

“Uh yeah, sure. Let’s go.” 

The principal still doesn’t look like he approves, but he doesn’t stop them. That’s… so not a good sign. York waits until they’re out of the cafeteria and heading toward the parking lot before he starts asking questions. “What the hell’s going on? What happened to Wash?”

“He’s in the hospital. There was some accident, he crashed--I don’t know, he barely told me anything.”

“Holy shit.” York pulls his arm from Tex’s grip, grabbing her hand instead, squeezing as he picks up the pace, tugging her along to his shitty old truck. 

It’s probably not the best idea to speed given that they’re going to check on someone who literally just got in an accident, but York doesn’t pay a whole lot of attention to speed limits on the way there. His grip on Tex’s hand never lets up. 

* * *

“What if I just blow it off?”

York’s sprawled out on his bed. His room is a mess, as usual. Not like his mom cares. Hell, as long as he hasn’t set the place on fire, she couldn’t give less of a shit. And it’s not like he’s going to be there too much longer. She’s probably going to turn it into a craft room or something as soon as he’s gone. 

Tex looks up from where she’s sitting in his desk chair. She’s got her feet kicked up on his desk as she looks through his mail. There’s more than he’s ever gotten in his entire life. This is what he gets for applying to two dozen colleges just to make sure something stuck. He can’t believe even half of them accepted him. 

It’s not like his grades are terrible, but he’s no Carolina. She’s already heard back from three Ivy Leagues who are desperate to take her. Of course, the only school her dad wanted had to be the one that waitlisted her. Such fucking bullshit. 

They hadn’t accepted him either, but… he hadn’t really expected them to. 

“Blow off what?” Tex’s eyes are narrowed like she already knows the answer. 

“The whole college thing. It seems kinda overrated, and the loans are a total scam. Even if I get decent financial aid, I’m gonna be in debt till I’m thirty. What’s the point?”

“The point is that it gets you the fuck out of here,” she says, flicking a letter at him. “I thought you were into this?”

He shrugs. “I was when I was just applying to every school in New York for the hell of it, but I dunno…”

“Are you freaking out about this? Usually when you freak out there’s more pacing.”

“I’m not freaking out.” Except he is. So, so much. The letters make it too real. Groaning, he throws an arm over his eyes. “What if I just like… don’t go? That’s a thing I can do right?”

“No, it’s not.” He hears Tex get up and walk over and knows she’s glaring down at him. “Okay, what the hell is this about?”

York blows out a breath and sits up. There’s a stack of letters at the end of his bed, some clearly big fat acceptances, others much thinner, none of them ease the frantic churning nerves that are making him flashback to the burnt as shit grilled cheese he had earlier. Tex can’t cook for shit, but she tries, and no one burns a sandwich like she does. 

“I’ve just been thinking… what if I took the money my mom’s been saving for college and just… used it to get an apartment? I can probably get a job somewhere in town, and then you can just crash at my place whenever you want, Wash too. And I mean, Lina and I were gonna end up doing the long distance thing anyway. It’ll actually be shorter if I just stay here--”

“Okay, you need to stop right fucking now.” The bed dips as Tex plops down next to him. York doesn't have to look at her to know she’s glaring. “Where the hell did this come from?”

He shrugs, pulling a few letters from the pile into his lap, flicking through them, not really reading anything written on the envelopes. “Nowhere. I’ve just been thinking it would be easier if I stuck around here a while. It’s not a big deal if I put it off a year.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Tex holds up her hands. “Are you doing this cause you don’t want to go to college without me?”

York hums and shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what I said. Who says this is about you? Maybe it’s about Wash. Or even Church. You know the little asshole is very near and dear to my heart, maybe I want to stick around to make sure he has a shoulder to cry on the next time you dump him.”

“Oh please, he’s got people for that,” she says, rolling her eyes. “And I’ve only done that like… twice this year. But that’s not what we’re fighting about here.”

“Are we fighting? Why didn’t you tell me? I need to stretch first, you know that.”

Tex huffs and lightly shoves at his shoulder. “York, would you be serious just for five minutes here?”

“That’s a trick question.”

“Oh my god.” She groans and leans forward, her head thunking against his shoulder as he just grins at her. “You’re such a bitch sometimes.”

“I know I am, but what are you?”

“Gonna fucking punch you in a second here.”

“Wow, Tex, threats? What is the world coming to?” He shakes his head and tosses the letters back into the pile. “But okay, okay… I just--I guess I always thought college was one of those future things that was never going to actually happen. But now it is…”

“Ha, you’re totally freaking out, I knew it.” She lifts her head up and smirks at him a little, but it doesn’t last long before her expression gets a little softer. “It’s not as big of a deal as it seems. And it’s not like we’re going to stop talking or anything… you know that right?”

York suddenly finds the floor immensely fascinating as he shrugs. There’s an indignant squawk from Tex as she smacks at his shoulder. “That’s it, isn’t it? You think this is gonna fuck things up?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“You’re such an idiot.” The bed shifts and he feels her back press against his. “I’m gonna call you so much you’ll get sick of me. And it’s not like this is the first time--we still talk to North every other day, and even South calls once a week.”

“Yeah, they do.” He wants that to reassure him, he really does. Letting out a breath, he runs a hand through his hair. “I just… I don’t like that I won’t be able to just walk over to your house any time. I know it’s stupid…”

“It kinda is.” But that doesn’t stop her from reaching to grab at his hand. “Look, it’ll be okay. Trust me. Fuck, we’ve been stuck it out this long, this isn’t gonna be what messes things up.”

“Promise?”

“You’re such a loser.” There’s a slight pause, and then she sighs, knocking her head lightly back against his. “Yeah… okay, I promise.”

* * *

When asked what he remembers about the incident years later, York will mostly say loud. After being pressed a bit more, he’ll say loud and bright and ow.

York’s woken up from enough head injuries to know when he’s got one. He comes to slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he tries to figure things out around him. There’s soft beeping that’s more familiar than it probably should be. Not for the first time, he’s suddenly sure that his particular group of friends has spent way too much time in the emergency room. 

But it sounds weird. A little distant. Or like someone filled one of his ears with cotton. That’s probably not great. 

He blinks, or he tries to. The left side of his face feels weird, sort of numb and covered in bandages. They must be covering his eye too for some reason. That… doesn’t seem good. 

“York?” Carolina’s voice is a little distant, but there’s no mistaking it.

He turns toward where it sounds like she’s coming from, finding her sitting to his right. It feels weird, but he still manages a smile. “Hey there Carolina. Am I dead? Cause you look like an angel.”

She snorts, but her eyes look red and tired. At least there’s no tears there now. Nothing has ever been more terrifying than seeing Carolina cry. There’s a scraping sound as she drags her chair closer to the bed. “Not funny.”

“I don’t know, I think that one was pretty good. Definitely better than the pie one.”

Carolina sighs and shakes her head, but she takes his hand when he reaches for her. “How are you feeling?”

“Mm, like I’m on some really, really awesome painkillers.” His grin grows a little when she manages a shaky smile, but it doesn’t last. “So… guess I must’ve got pretty fucked up?”

“That’s putting it mildly.” And there’s a little bit of a bite to her tone. 

“Do you know what the damage is?”

Letting out a breath, she shakes her head. “Not yet. The doctors said they did what they could, but they aren’t telling me much since I’m not family.”

“Pssh, lame. You should’ve told them you’re my sister, so then we could make out and creep everyone out.”

Snorting again, she ducks her head, giving his hand a little squeeze. “They’ve definitely been giving you too much morphine if you’re making jokes that bad.”

“Got you to smile, didn’t it?”

She looks up at him, that smile still lingering as she nods. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

There’s the sound of a door opening and Carolina looks somewhere past the foot of his bed. York can’t really see what’s happening, but he notices the way Carolina’s face suddenly goes cold, her eyes narrowing, back straightening. “What are  _ you _ doing here?”

“I wanted to see if he was awake yet.” That’s Tex’s voice. Uh oh. Not good. 

With a little grunt of effort, York tries to push himself up. “Tex, hey, are you here to cry at my bedside too?”

“You wish,” she says, smirking, but there’s a slight softness to her eyes. Shit, this must be really serious then. “The doctors said you might be waking up soon, figured I should make sure you weren’t dead.”

“I appreciate that.”

Carolina doesn’t look like she shares the sentiment, still glaring daggers at Tex. York squeezes her hand a little to get her attention. “Hey, Lina? Can you go see if they’ve got any good food here? I’m starving.”

She looks down at him, for a moment, it seems like she’s going to protest, but then there’s a little slump to her shoulders. “Sure. I should call North anyway. He’s been texting me every five minutes for updates.”

“Oh well, you definitely need to get that. Can’t keep Mother North waiting.” 

There’s a little hint of a smile on her face as she leans down and meets him for a quick little kiss. The glare is back as she straightens up and heads out of the room, shouldering past Tex. Since day one, there’s been some… unpleasantness there. York’s always seen it, but this seems like… more somehow. 

Tex isn’t glaring as she watches Carolina go though. And that’s also really fucking weird. She steps into the room, closing the door behind her as she moves to sit on the edge of his bed, apparently ignoring the chair Carolina just vacated. 

York’s brow furrows. “Okay, you’ve got serious face, what’s up?”

Grimacing, Tex stares at her hands. “It’s my fault.”

Oh boy. This already. With a little groan, York pushes himself up, sitting back against his pillows. “No.”

Tex blinks at him. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean what I said. No. Not your fault, and we’re not doing this. We don’t do this, remember?” It’s been their rule since fifth grade and the time he had accidentally gotten Tex’s hand stuck in a hole puncher. They don’t blame, they don’t hold grudges. And they don’t get all guilty and shitty. It makes things so much easier. 

“But it was my fault. I’m the one that got the fireworks.”

That sounds… sort of familiar. Honestly, the last thing York remembers is waiting in North’s car for him to get back with beer. He knows they were going to do something after that with fireworks, their usual Fourth of July shenanigans. Right… and then they were going to the park to see the stuff Tex had got and then… and then… a bright, bright light. And loud. Lots of loud. And pain. 

And now he’s here. 

“Yeah, but you weren’t the one that… did whatever happened. Uh, you might need to catch me up on that part. Things are kinda fuzzy.”

That doesn’t look like it makes her happy. But she sighs and looks at the wall. “We were setting off fireworks and one of them… I don’t know what happened, it must not have been hammered in right and it just went right at you.”

“Huh. At least it was something cool. ‘How’d you lose your eye?’ Firework to the face,” he says, playing out the conversation with himself, grinning. 

Tex doesn’t look amused, and she doesn’t feel amused either when she smacks at his shoulder. “Shut up. You don’t know if you’re gonna lose it.”

Oh… is that a thing he should be worried about? Shit. He had just figured his face got kind of fucked up. Which… sucks. He likes his face. Carolina likes his face. But he’s pretty sure she’s not going to just dump him because he’s got a few new scars. If his eye’s messed up though… that’s going to be an issue. 

“It’s still not your fault,” he insists, reaching his hand toward Tex. She eyes it for a moment as he wiggles his fingers at her. 

After a few moments, she sighs and takes his hand. “Okay,” she says, very softly. “I still feel like shit.”

“Yeah? Well knock it off. You’re gonna have to be my seeing eye Tex.”

“That’s still not funny.” But she’s grinning a little now as she shakes their joined hands at him. At least she seems a little less sad and quiet and un-Tex like. Good, that’s good. He’d trade his other eye for that. “I guess, if we’re really pointing fingers though… I did tell you stop standing so fucking close.”

York snorts and presses his free hand to his chest. “Wow, okay, I don’t remember, but that doesn’t sound like a thing I would ever do ever, how dare you. Me do something you told me not to? How could you even think of accusing me? That’s just--how dare. I’m so offended.”

She laughs a little and shakes her head as she leans over and rests her forehead against his shoulder. “You’re such a big dummy.”

It’s a little soft and a little sad, so he wraps an arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. The hand that isn’t holding his curls into the hospital gown he’s wearing. She doesn’t say anything for several long moments, the light atmosphere drifting away. York leans his head against hers and sighs. 

“I’m okay, y’know? Well… even if I’m not, I will be. I always bounce back, Ally.”

There’s a little groan and she shakes her head, still not lifting it from his shoulder. “God I hate that nickname,” she says, and her voice sounds a little close to tears, so he gives her hand another squeeze. “Why the hell did I ever say you could call me that?”

“Cause you loooooove me,” he sing songs as he kisses the side of her head. 

Tex sighs. “Yeah… I do.” 

And she says it in that soft, quiet way that makes him bite back any other stupid jokes rolling through his still fuzzy feeling head. He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but eventually she pulls back. For a split second, York thinks he might see a tear on her face before she turns away and rubs at her face. 

“You should call your roommate,” she says, voice carefully casual as she pulls his phone out of her pocket and drops it on him. “He texted a bunch last night and I told him what happened. Sounds like he probably wants to yell at you for it. North does too, by the way. And Wash.”

Groaning, York flops back against his pillows. “Why’d you tell Dee? He’s gonna give me so much shit.”

“Uh yeah, that’s why I did it,” she says, flashing him a toothy grin as she rises from the bed. “Well, I can’t just hang around here all day and you’ve got a lot of yelling coming, so I’m gonna head out. Call me when the doctors tell you what’s up.”

“Okay mom.”

Tex snorts. “Hey, I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near as mom-ish as the other guys.”

Well… he can’t exactly argue with that, so he just nods as he picks up his phone. Looking at the screen, he winces. Oh boy, twenty-seven missed calls and forty-three text messages. That’s not good. 

“Yeah, you should probably get out of here before the screaming starts,” he says, picking a voicemail at random to start with. He winces again when Wash’s screeching punches its way out of the phone.

Snickering, Tex leans over and kisses the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder before heading out of the room. 

* * *

“Hey?”

York looks up from the laptop. He’s sprawled over Tex’s couch, having spent the last several hours slowly slumping down it until the laptop’s on his chest and his arms are regularly cramping up trying to actually type anything. 

There’s a weird look on Tex’s face, her mouth pinched a little to one corner as her hands drum on the back of the couch. “Nah, nevermind.”

Okay, that’s just bizarre. “What’s up? I’m not doing anything.”

For a long moment, Tex just pauses. Then she huffs and jumps over the back of the couch, shoving York’s legs off to make room for herself. He sits up and sets the laptop on the coffee table. Tex pulls a small box out of her pocket and flips the lid open. Inside is a silver ring, almost plain except for the very faint blue inlay. It’s gorgeous. 

“What do you think of this?” She’s not looking at him. 

“Tex, I’m flattered, but you know gold is more my color.”

“Oh fuck off.” She shoves at him, but he’s pretty sure he hears a faint laugh in her voice.   


He lets out a mock gasp of surprise. “I thought what we had was special.”

“Can you be serious for like five seconds?”

York shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m pretty sure that’s not physically possible for me. I had all my serious surgically removed and implanted into Delta.”

She lightly shoves him again, but makes no move to scoot away when he shifts back closer and stretches an arm along the back of the couch. “But it’s not too much, right? Some guys get all weird about jewelry and shit.”

“It’s perfect, Tex, but this is Church we’re talking about--you did get that for him, right? There’s no mystery dude you’re not telling me about?”

Tex rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. “Yes, it’s for Church, dumbass.”

“Right, yeah, like I was saying, I’m pretty sure he’d take a rubber band with a paperclip stuck to it if it came from you.”

“Yeah, probably.” There’s something fond in her eyes, as she looks at the ring, and something a little worryingly sad. Okay, maybe not the best thing to say, time to backtrack. 

“So is this just… a present or?”

She looks at him like he’s one of the biggest idiots on the planet. Which is probably fair. Fancy ring in a little black, velvet lined box usually only means one thing. 

“I’m asking him on Friday,” she says, a slightly forced certainty to her voice. “I figure… we’ve been together long enough, I should probably just do it.”

York frowns, one eyebrow rising. “Really?”

Tex lets out a huff and drags a hand through her hair. “Sort of? Not really. I know he wants to get married, but he’s too chicken shit to ask me, so I’ve gotta be the one to do it.”

“But do you want this?” He shifts a little on the couch, turning to face her more. Honestly, York doesn’t know all the details of the ups and downs with Tex and Church and… he doesn’t want to. Some things are tmi even for him. 

For a long moment, Tex says nothing, then she very slowly nods. “I… I don’t know. I think I do? It’s weird, y’know? I never figured I’d want to settle down and all that boring bullshit, but… things have been good lately. Like really good. I know I used to mess around and stuff, but the last few years… I haven’t wanted to. Things are good with Church.”

“Have you two talked about this at all?” His hand drops onto her shoulder, thumb gently rubbing the back of her neck. 

“A little, yeah. We already live together, and I mean… we’re basically already there, just not officially.”

“And… no one else is trying to talk you into this?” He doesn’t want to drop a name, but he can tell from the look on her face she knows exactly who he means. 

There’s no hiding the disgust as she shakes her head. “No,  _ he’s _ got nothing to do with it. Fuck, if we’re doing this, there’s no way in hell he’s invited. It’s bad enough he still sends me birthday cards,” she says, shuddering a little. 

York’s arm goes around her shoulders and she moves to lean into his side. “So… you really want this? With Church?”

“Yeah… I really do. He’s an idiot sometimes, but he’s my idiot.” There’s a sweet smile on Tex’s face, her eyes on that little box. York has to look away for a second, almost feeling like he’s intruding on something here. 

He lets her have her little moment before he gives her shoulder a squeeze. “Well good. I think you’re good for each other, y’know? And North owes me twenty bucks--he was so sure Wash and that Tucker guy would tie the knot first.”

Tex cocks an eyebrow at him. “Half of that twenty better be mine. You assholes need to stop betting on this shit.”

“Let us have our fun, Tex, I need something to live for,” he says, halfway toward pulling out his phone. “Am I allowed to brag yet or do I have to wait till you pop the question?”

“You should probably wait, I don’t even know if he’ll say yes.” She shrugs and tucks the ring away as York scoffs. 

“We’re talking about the same Church, right? I’m pretty sure he would’ve said yes if you proposed two days after you met the guy. Don’t worry about it. So, am I the best man or what?” He gives her a little shake, smile obviously teasing to lighten the mood. 

Snorting, she lightly shoves at his chest. “The groom picks the best man, dumbass. But… I was gonna ask you to be the maid of honor, or whatever.”

He taps his chin. “Do I have to wear a dress? And follow up question, can I pick it myself? Cause Vanessa has this collection of ugly bridesmaid dresses and I’m telling you right now, I love you, but you can’t do that to me. I need something that makes my eyes pop. Well, eye--you get what I mean.”

“You can wear whatever the hell Donut picks out for you. He’s got final say on all that shit, or he will once I start telling people. I figure if I don’t let him plan things, he’s going to start showing up at the foot of my bed at night and anyone else who tries to make a seating chart is gonna have a mysterious accident.”

York’s brow furrows for a second. “Donut… he’s the guy at the diner that wears all the light red stuff, right? The one who hooked up with North and redecorated his place?”

“That’s him,” she says, snorting as she nods. “He’s got all these binders about party planning, and he’s been making comments about wedding stuff ever since Church moved in here.”

He nods, and then something occurs to him. “Wait… am I the first person you’re telling?”

“Uh yeah, of course you are, genius.” Tex looks at him like he just said something amazingly stupid. Which is fair, he does that from time to time. 

But right now, he can’t even be a little annoyed by that. It’s so simple, such a small thing, but she told him first. Of course she told him first. He knows he’s got a big stupid grin on his face as he reaches out and pulls her into a hug. 

Tex lets out a squawk of surprise, but she doesn’t protest, wrapping an arm around him. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing. Just felt like it. Now less talking, more hugging.”

York can practically hear her roll her eyes, but she doesn’t try to squirm free. “Okay weirdo.”

The hug lasts for a few more long moments before he pulls back and starts making plans for his speech at the reception. They stay up till two making plans and laughing at each other until Tex is yawning and leaning heavily against his shoulder. 

“You really think he’s gonna say yes?” Her voice is low, a tiny, tiny hint of doubt there. It doesn’t sound right. 

“One hundred percent. But y’know… even if he doesn’t, it’s gonna be okay. And you know why?”

She sighs and he doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s rolling her eyes. “Cause I’ve got you?”

“Cause you’ve got me,” he agrees, nodding. He expects a biting comeback or a joke, but he just feels her nod against his shoulder. 

“Yeah… I do.” 

“Damn right you do. So… how do you feel about me playing Wonderwall as you walk down the aisle?” 

“Hmm, I feel like I take back every nice thing I ever said about you.”

“C’mon, it’s a classic.” 

“Maybe in your dreams,” she says. Sitting up, she stretches and yawns. “As fun as your bad ideas are, I think I’m going to bed before you come up with something even worse.”

“Just think about it.” He tips his head to grin at her as she walks around the couch and heads for her room. 

“Yeah, no. Goodnight asshole.”

“Goodnight Ally.”

The door to her room shuts behind her and York stretches out on the couch, a smile on his face. He pulls his laptop back onto his chest and starts writing his speech. 

_ It all started on a playground... _

**Author's Note:**

> So writing this has made me really miss this au, so hopefully I can get back into things and get the next chapter of 'cherry bomb' finished soon.


End file.
